


Bro Code

by bubble_tea_and_bonzai



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Childhood Friends, Gen, KEIJI KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING LMAO, Kuroo Tetsurou and Akaashi Keiji are brothers, Kuroo is gonna beat the fuck out of Bokuto ok, Protective Kuroo Tetsurou, because it fit my story LMAO, best friend's brother shit right there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29117529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubble_tea_and_bonzai/pseuds/bubble_tea_and_bonzai
Summary: “Yeah, sorry for being paranoid. It’s just-- I love you, man, but if you were one of those gross fuckers trying to get with my brother…” Koutarou watched the way his face shriveled in disgust. “Well, I’d have to kill you.” The last words were so deadpan Koutarou felt his balls shrink closer to his body. They were silent for a few seconds, before Tetsurou broke it with a chuckle. “But obviously I’ve got nothing to worry about... that's like, basic bro code.”“Y--yeah… no worries,” Koutarou laughed weakly.(or the one where Akaashi is too forward, Kuroo's his older brother, and Bo's willing to risk it all)
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 53
Kudos: 175
Collections: Bokuaka for the soul and heartbreak for the gut





	1. Locked Out of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> real quick, lemme just say I kept their last names for two reasons:  
> 1\. gay marriage is illegal in Japan but I wanted them to have moms  
> 2\. it would confuse me LMAO  
> 3\. but they first name each other anyways bc they grew up together
> 
> also, kinda sorry for kinda ooc Keiji but LMAO I JUST HAD TO MAKE BO SUFFER

“I need to ask you a favor,” Tetsurou said before Koutarou could even greet him. “You gotta do this for me, man.” Koutarou was stunned by the desperation ringing through his phone. His friend was normally coolheaded, even when nervous.

“Yeah, of course,” Koutarou complied. “Anything for my bro.” 

_What’s got him all riled?_

His best friend had called him out of the blue, which although not unwelcome, was fairly uncommon. Normally Koutarou was the clingy one. 

“Listen, I don’t know _why_ our moms are letting Keiji commute, but I’m not going to be there to keep an eye on him,” Tetsurou said, sighing; Koutarou could almost imagine him dragging a flat palm down his face. “And you _know_ how much… _attention_ , Keiji gets.” 

Oh, he knew alright. _Everyone_ knew how much attention Akaashi Keiji got. 

_Understandably,_ Koutarou thought, resigned to this fact after all this time. The only thing that brought Tetsurou (and _maybe_ Koutarou) any peace of mind was just how _little_ Keiji gave a shit. 

A surefire way for any person to not only disappoint themselves, but just absolutely _obliterate_ their ego, was to hit on Keiji. Although always polite, he couldn’t be less interested. One set of blank blue eyes, a polite bow, and a ‘no, thank you’ later, and _someone_ was guaranteed to leave brokenhearted.

The younger boy had recently graduated from middle school. For some baffling reason, rather than following in his brother’s footsteps at their local high school, he’d begged his mothers to let him attend the one in a different ward of Tokyo. The one _Koutarou_ went to. Something about a ‘ _fantastic volleyball team’_. Always suckers for their youngest son, they obliged. 

Koutarou had to keep reminding himself it was a coincidence. 

The boy cleared his throat.

“Uhm, yeah, what about it?” Despite his question, Koutarou knew exactly where this was going. He prayed he was wrong. 

“You gotta look out for him, Kou. Take him under your wing, or something.”

Ah. There it was. 

Koutarou was _fucked._

In all honesty, Koutarou had been fucked since the day he’d found out Keiji was going to his school. You see, he’d been harboring a bit of a crush on the younger boy for a little while now. Nothing crazy. _Just their whole lives._ But it was fine, really. Because besides the fact that it was _not cool_ to date your best friend’s little brother, he’d certainly be met with rejection anyways. Hence why the two step plan was necessary:

Step 1: Avoid touching, staring, or spending literally any time with Keiji (as much as possible)

Step 2: Absolutely do not humiliate yourself and crush your spirits OR ruin your friendship with Tetsurou.

Perfect plan, really. 

At least, it _had_ been a perfect plan until Koutarou had heard the news from Keiji himself. A sweet tilt of his head, a request of ‘you’ll show me the ropes, won’t you, Koutarou-san?”. Keiji going to _his_ school, playing on h _is_ court, meeting with all the _nasty, foul teenagers who would absolutely prey on someone like Keiji._

Case in point, _Koutarou was fucked._

“Oh, yeah, of course, bro.” Koutarou chuckled, hoping it didn’t sound fake. “Easy peasy.” 

_Ffffffffffffuuuuc--_

* * *

“Kou, I have a question,” Tetsurou asked; he tossed the volleyball up in the air _just_ high enough to miss the ceiling and caught it as it fell, repeating the motion. 

They were a few months into their third-year at their respective schools; Tetsurou’s moms were at some holiday party while Keiji spent the night at a friend’s, which meant the pair had the Akaashi-Kuroo house to themselves. The two were currently flopped across Tetsurou’s bed and Koutarou had never been more drunk in his life. 

“Hm?” Koutarou drowsed. “Wha’, buddy?” 

He figured it was something or another about the little blond again. Koutarou had met him a few times, but they’d barely spoken. He’d always been enraptured by whatever handheld console he’d had with him that day, offering a small greeting before burying his face back in his game. Koutarou didn’t particularly mind, but was humored by how _enamored_ his best friend was with such an introvert. Tetsurou acted as if he could power the whole universe with that scarce little grin. 

Although, he didn’t really have room to talk, did he?

“Is something going on with you and Keiji?” Koutarou snapped his head over, eyes wide. He’d thought Tetsurou was as drunk as him, but apparently not. The messy-haired boy looked alert as ever; had it not been for the heavier-than-usual eyelids, Koutarou might’ve thought him sober. 

He scrambled to sit up, but kept his voice casual,

“Whatcha mean?” 

_Nice, nice. Cool. Casual. Totally not hiding anything, definitely not in love with Tetsurou’s little brother._

“You know exactly what I mean, Kou.” Tetsurou narrowed his eyes. “Ever since he started at Fukurodani… you guys hang out _a lot._ More than you ever used to.” 

Tetsurou was a great guy, really. Maybe a little bit of a smartass at times-- and _definitely_ too smug for a highschool third-year, but he made it work. Great guy or not; Koutarou found himself a little frustrated at how ungrateful he was being.

“Well, I- _yeah._ He’s my vice captain, man!” 

_My_ vice captain. Koutarou tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling in his gut. 

“Besides… didn’t you want me to look out for him?” Koutarou had sobered up rather fast, he noticed glumly. 

“ _Yeah,_ when he was a first year,” Tetsurou huffed. He shook his head, backpedalling, “Wait-- that doesn’t mean to stop, okay? He’s still… _Keiji_ or whatever.” Koutarou’s shoulders loosened; he knew Tetsurou was just looking out for his little brother. Who could blame him?

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Koutarou said, assuringly. He laid back down, hanging off the side of the bed to gaze at the ceiling once again. “Just being a stand in for you, bud.” He leaned up a little, trying to gauge his friend’s reaction.

His words were successful, taming the lion and shoving him back in his crate before he could even really come out. Tetsurou looked significantly less ruffled. His head was propped against the headboard once again, eyes slid shut and a small smirk on his face.

“Yeah, sorry for being paranoid. It’s just-- I love you, man, but if you were one of those gross fuckers trying to get with my baby brother…” Koutarou watched the way his face shriveled in disgust. “Well, I’d have to kill you.” The last words were so deadpan Koutarou felt his balls shrink closer to his body. They were silent for a few seconds, before Tetsurou broke it with a chuckle. “But obviously I’ve got nothing to worry about… that’s like, _basic_ bro code.” 

“Y--yeah… no worries,” Koutarou laughed weakly. 

* * *

_Legs._

Those were nice. Important things, y’know? 

Speaking of legs, you know who had _great_ ones?

“Kou?”

Keiji. _Keiji_ had great ones. 

Koutarou’s eyes followed along the lines of muscle up until where they slipped underneath cotton shorts until they settled on his back, charmed by the slight sway back and forth to the beat of the radio. There was nothing particularly special about the scene: the sound of clattering dishes interrupting the peace while Koutarou observed from the breakfast bar, eyes locked on the silhouette of his teammate. It was a boring setting, really. 

Boring if you weren’t Koutarou. 

“Kou? _Uh?”_

Keiji accidentally dropped his rag, giving an irritated little ‘ _harumph’._ The captain wasn’t sure what to prioritize staring at: the little wrinkle in Keiji’s forehead when he got pissed, or the ripple of his hamstrings when he bent over to retrieve it. Debating this, Koutarou pressed his lips together. Either way, what he wouldn’t _give_ to be buried in betwe--

“ _Oi!”_ A whack to the head startled him out of his reverie. 

He yelped, hand shooting up to protect himself from further abuse. With a pout, he turned toward the offender. 

Tetsurou was standing beside him, a wicked scowl adorning his face. At some point, Tetsurou must’ve made his way downstairs, but only god knows when. How had he missed that? 

“ _Dude,”_ Koutarou whined. “What the hell was that for?” Tetsurou grimaced, deep set eyes sliding over to the kitchen sink. Like the fool he was, Koutarou followed suit. 

The youngest boy had turned around to stare at them both, the now-contaminated rag in one hand, and a fresh one in the other. There was a line of dish soap bubbling across his cheek, making Koutarou’s chest pang with _want._ Rather than greet his brother, Keiji was focused on the other boy in the room.

“Oh, hi Koutarou-san,” he said mildly. “When did you get here?” He shook his head a little, flicking a perfect curl out of his line of sight before it flopped back. His lips downturned. 

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfucujisnfifuibf,_ thought Koutarou. 

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckdfsushighnif,_ his heart agreed.

“ _Dumbass_ over here is spending the night,” Tetsurou said wryly. “Was _s’posed_ to go to the bathroom, he somehow ended up in here.” 

“With me,” Keiji said. The look in his eyes made Koutarou wish he were better at reading expressions. 

“With you,” Tetsurou echoed. After what felt like an eternity of uncomfortable silence, Koutarou let out an awkward chuckle. 

“My bad, uhm--” he stuttered out. “Just got a little zoned out.” Keiji raised a short brow, dubious. 

“Hm.” Keiji glanced between his brother and captain before returning to his dishes, the sounds of clanking filling the room once again. 

_Oof._

It was strange to Koutarou, how Keiji could go from the soft-spoken boy who trailed behind him in school, to the callous teenager he became when Tetsurou was around. The brothers had always gotten along, but when Koutarou joined the mix, it was tense at best. Was Keiji embarrassed of him? 

Koutarou found himself drooping at the thought, shoulders slacking and head bowing. 

“C’mon, Kou, I wanna finish that level,” Tetsurou said, prodding him along like cattle. Despite the nonchalance in his voice, the grip on Koutarou’s shoulder was tight, possibly threatening. 

As they made their way upstairs, Tetsurou paused mid-step to turn around. Tetsurou was already taller than him, but standing on a higher step added to the strength of his glower. 

“Watch it, Kou.” 

Koutarou held his hands up in an effort to be complacent, hoping to avoid this conversation for the rest of eternity. 

“Dunno what you mean man, nothing to watch here!” It would’ve been more convincing if the end hadn’t been squeaked out through a weak smile. With a final distrustful tut, Tetsurou continued the trek to his room. 

\-----

Tetsurou had the sleeping habits of a grandpa. He was quick to deny this, but the way he was conked out across from Koutarou, snoring _ten minutes into the movie,_ said differently 

Koutarou gazed at him, part in fondness and partially considering whether or not it was safe to muffle his snorts with a pillow. Although somewhat endearing, it was kind of fucking annoying. He sounded like a bear, throat all clogged and mouth dangling open. 

Koutarou couldn’t blame him; the movie they had picked wasn’t particularly interesting. The summary had been a little misleading, something about a cabin in the woods and a werewolf. Koutarou had been hoping for horror, but to his own, _this was a romance._ Not really what he’d been going for. 

Koutarou’s head leaned against the back of the couch as he alternated between _trying_ to watch the movie and scowling at the loud sounds from his friend. Luckily, Tetsurou had claimed the armchair and spared him from a front row seat. Unluckily, now Koutarou had no one to prod at with his cold toes. 

“Koutarou-san?” a soft voice called. Koutarou lolled his head further onto the back of the couch to stare upside-down into the staircase. 

Keiji scrubbed his palm at his eye, wiping away the sleep as he trudged toward the couch. His normally pristine curls were mussed around his face, obscuring his other eye from Koutarou. Overall, Keiji just looked… _soft._ Soft hair, soft sweater, soft slippers, _soft pants._ He had traded his earlier pair for pajama shorts that looked velvety-smooth to the touch; Koutarou’s heart thudded at the thought of testing that theory. 

“Hi Keiji-kun,” Koutarou said, quiet in hopes of letting Tetsurou sleep. “Whatcha doing up so late?” Keiji gave him a tired smile.

As he approached the couch _and Koutarou,_ the sitting boy tried to not let his desperation to touch show. Tetsurou had made it clear time and time again: Keiji was _off-limits._

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Keiji teased. “How long has Tetsu been passed out anyways?” 

As Keiji walked past the couch, he picked up an extra blanket draped along the back and brought it over to his brother. He eyed him fondly, tossing a blanket over him and ruffling the disarranged dark locks before heading back to Koutarou. He gestured to the spot beside him,

“Can I join? I don’t think I could fall back asleep anyways.” Koutarou nodded mutely before scooting over. 

Quiet scuffles were the only sound as Keiji settled into place. The younger boy tucked his feet under in a criss-cross. Without hesitation, he tugged some of the blanket off Koutarou’s lap and into his own. The heat emanating from his body raised the temperature underneath; a blessing for his frozen toes. 

The two watched in companionable silence for a while in the low-light of the television. Well, Keiji watched the movie, and Koutarou watched _Keiji_. Watched the way the light bounced off his curls, illuminating cobalt eyes: the way he pressed his lips together to contain his smile, crinkling his nose at the more dreamy scenes. Koutarou prayed he was subtle. 

“Koutarou-san?” Keiji murmured, breaking Koutarou out of his gorgeous-boy-induced trance. Sparks tingled down his spine when heavily-lidded blue eyes met his own golden ones. Keiji looked like a dream; every time he blinked, dark lashes grazed rosy cheeks. 

“Uhm,” Koutarou cleared his throat, mortified by the crack in his voice. “Yes?” 

Koutarou was in a situation. A bad one, at that. Or was it good? God, who even knew at that point. All Koutarou _did_ know, was that Keiji’s face was leaning closer by the minute, and his brother was not even _ten feet away_ . Ah, yes, the tall, overprotective, _big brother_ who just so happened to be Koutarou’s best friend. 

So yeah. It was certainly a ‘ _situation’._

Koutarou scrambled off the couch. The abruptness of the motion caused Keiji’s hand to slip off the cushion where Koutarou had been sitting. When did he get **_that close????_**

Keiji’s upper half tumbled off the side of the couch, barely managing to catch the rest of himself before it fell as well. He gaped at Koutarou, looking a mix of bewildered and offended. _Fuck._ Koutarou needed to say _something_ before the tension in the atmosphere reached a climax.

“Whoo,” he breathed out in what he _hoped_ was an air of nonchalance. “I-- your-- your _moms,_ Keiji-kun--” Keiji’s brows furrowed in confusion. Koutarou hesitated. His moms _what?_

“Those dumplings are just _not_ sitting right with me man.” Keiji blinked slowly. 

_Oh my god? Shut the fuck up?_

Koutarou began to flail his hands, panicking. 

“No, no, no, I mean-- dinner was _fantastic_ \-- your moms are _fantastic-- I--_ **_you’re fantastic!_ ** ” _No. Stop it. Please._

“But I am like,” _Last chance._ “three seconds from shitting my pants.” Koutarou rushed off, leaving a confused Keiji on the couch with the last of his wounded pride. 

* * *

Koutarou hadn’t had many expectations for his third and final year of high school: play volleyball, maybe get scouted, hang out with his best friend, and _beg_ any god above to pass. What he _hadn’t_ expected was the visceral shift in his relationship with Akaashi Keiji. If you had told him a year ago that he was soon to be a drowning man with none other than Keiji sinking his ship, he’d have laughed. 

After that night, Koutarou had been terrified he’d offended Keiji. In the moment, he’d been so panicked at the thought of kissing Keiji that he hadn’t considered the miracle that Keiji wanted to kiss _him._ The idea never failed to leave his hands clammy and cheeks blooming. 

It wasn’t as if Koutarou didn’t _want_ to kiss his setter. Quite the opposite, really. If he could, he’d snatch Keiji up, spend the rest of their lives snuggled under a pile of blankets, hole up in a room and never leave (with maybe a few exceptions for volleyball). 

Koutarou was still baffled by the realization that a relationship with Keiji was even _possible._ He’d fantasized about what it would be like, sure: holding hands in the hallways, sneaking kisses in the locker room before practice, it’d be perfect, really. Koutarou was already adored by the Akaashi-Kuroo mothers anyways-- he would certainly have _their_ approval. But that’s where the fantasy shattered, isn’t it?

Koutarou watched forlornly as Keiji guided his team through their drills like the good vice captain he was. He couldn’t tell which was worse: being benched for his foul attitude, or the _reasoning_ for his foul attitude. 

Keiji might want him, and his mothers would _surely_ love them together, but...

_Tetsurou._

With a final lap around the gym, the team finished up their cool-down exercise and made their way for the locker room. Koutarou followed with shoulders slouched. Like the absolute _boob_ he was, the captain stomped his way across the room, ignoring irritated grumbles from the other boys. 

_Stupid Tetsurou._

**_Stomp._ **

_Stupid coach, benching me. I wasn’t even that bad._

Apparently his “ _attitude”_ was a “ _nuisance”_ and he was being a “ _hindrance to the improvement of the rest of the team”._ Blah blah blah. Whatever. 

**_Stomp._ **

_Stupid Keiji. I bet his hair’s so soft. And I bet it smells even better up close. I bet_ **_he_ ** _smells even better up close._

One shower with some furious scrubbing later, and Koutarou was squeaky clean and even more pissed, attempting to get in his locker and feeling awfully vulnerable in nothing but a towel. He fiddled with the lock combination for a minute before groaning loudly, knocking his head against the metal. 

“Who even _bothered_ spinning the lock?” Koutarou called out, irritably. “Y’know I don’t remember it!” His voice echoed back at him as his only response. His shower had been relatively long as he appreciated the time to think; the rest of the team must’ve left already. He sighed in frustration before sliding his eyes shut. 

_Deep breaths. Not everything is the end of the world._

He spent the next few seconds trying to calm himself down. He was just too _riled._ There was all this nervous energy and absolutely _nothing_ to channel it into after Coach had left him benched through most of practice. 

“Koutarou-san?”

Koutarou leapt nearly a foot in the air, his head meeting the door of his locker. 

His hands shot up to clutch at the spot, groaning, “Ah, fuck!” He squeezed his eyes shut.

Another set of fingers found their way to the growing bump at the front of his hairline. A long, but thin thumb smoothed circles around the area. Koutarou blinked bleary eyes open. 

“Keiji-kun,” he whined. Keiji was close. _Too_ close. “You scared me.” 

Keiji hummed a noise from the back of his throat absent-mindedly. The two had a silent staring match, and the longer it went on, the deeper the lava bubbled in Koutarou’s gut, threatening to rise until it spilled into his lungs. 

“What were you thinking about during practice today, Kou-san?” 

_Fuck_ . Keiji hadn’t called him that in years. Koutarou had always secretly loved it; it reminded him of how endearing Keiji was when he was young enough for his quiet demeanor to be attributed to age rather than introversion. Even after Keiji was able to pronounce “Koutarou-san”, the nickname had stuck-- at least, until Tetsurou had started teasing him about it.Though what Koutarou _couldn’t_ pinpoint was when his brain decided the nickname sounded hot falling from Keiji’s lips. Maybe it was the raspy quality, maybe it was the proximity. 

He swallowed.

“Uhm, just… volleyball.” 

Not _entirely_ untrue. Koutarou mentally patted himself on the back. 

One of the hands resting on the back of Koutarou’s head grazed down his neck, settling on the spot above his heart. He hoped Keiji couldn’t hear the way it thundered beneath his palm. “And?” Keiji pried further. His mouth was flat, as if innocent, but Koutarou could see a spark in his eyes. The thumb in his hair slid down as well, stroking behind his ear. 

“I--uhm, about the… the new set.” 

“The new set?” There was no new set. 

“Yeah… with the thing.”

“Ah, of course. With ‘the thing’.” At some point, Keiji had moved impossibly closer. Koutarou was nearly trembling with how close their hips were. Keiji was so _warm_ and the smell of pine soap and hair product wafting through his nostrils was _just_ as nice as Koutarou had imagined, if not better. Koutarou was also still _very, very nude_ , protecting his decency with nothing but a towel. 

_Be strong, Koutarou. Be_ [ **_strong_ ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zuaBRqUBhyw) _._

“And _that’s_ why you have a boner?” 

Well. 

Even Koutarou had his moments. 

“I’m sorry,” Koutarou whispered quietly, ashamed as if Keiji wasn’t staring like he was going to eat him alive. “I’m sorry.” He wondered why he couldn’t stop apologizing as he gazed at the sultry smile and dark curls. 

“Don’t be sorry.” There wasn’t enough time for Koutarou to consider the consequences of _this_ before Keiji had thrown his arms around his shoulders, pulling his captain into a kiss. Any and all hesitations were thrown out the window the minute their lips met; Koutarou yanked an arm around Keiji’s back to hold him close, scraping blunt nails in circles near the base of his spine. He moved to suck lightly against Keiji’s jawline, careful not to leave a mark. 

“Oh, wow, Keiji-kun, I’ve-- I can’t believe you would even want--” His chest swelled with a shaky inhale, part in nerves and part in an attempt to catch his breath. The kisses Keiji had been mouthing along his cheekbone turned sweeter, slower. “I know, Kou.” 

_Kou._ He felt like he was going to melt. 

Keiji pushed him back into the wall before dropping to his knees, his ass planted on the balls of his feet. Smoldering blue burned when Keiji leaned back to stare up at him. His throat dried at the sight of Keiji licking his lips. Long fingers trailed up his thigh to toy with the knot of the towel. Koutarou shivered at the feel of warm breath so close to his dick. 

“D’you want some help with that?” Keiji’s voice slurred as he propped his chin against Koutarou’s knee, staring up at him like a begging puppy. Koutarou nodded, nervously. He was still in awe that this was even happening.

_I’m about to get a blowjob from Akaashi Keiji._

Keiji had always been so out of reach. Even though _he_ was the younger one, it felt like he held all the control in their dynamic. He’d always thought Keiji was miles out of his league, while Koutarou was just the longing sap desperate for his affection. Maybe he had been a little too self-deprecating, if the way Keiji licked his lips was anything to go by. Koutarou nodded once again, an overeager mess of anticipation and nerves. 

As Keiji slowly undid the knot, he nuzzled a line of kisses on the spot above Koutarou’s knee. The lust finally boiled over, dragging a deep moan from the captain’s diaphragm. “Keiji, please,” he whined when the towel was finally removed: damp, hot licks tickling the line of his pelvic bone. 

Say what you want about Keiji, but he was no tease. He was quick to grasp his hands around Koutarou’s dick. In an overestimation of his abilities as a first time dick-sucker, Keiji attempted to swallow him down to the root. The action triggered his gag reflex and jolted him back, hacking into his fist as he scowled at it with watery eyes, as if Koutarou’s cock had personally offended him. Despite his setter’s frustration, Koutarou groaned low at the feeling of not just any tight, hot, throat contracting around him, but _Keiji’s_ tight, hot, throat. His fingers dug into the wall where they hung by his sides.

“Y’... y’don’t gotta do that, Keiji-kun…” he whimpered, though his dick seemingly said otherwise, the red tip oozing a little. Keiji frowned at him before leaning back in, taking the head into his mouth, but slower this time. Koutarou slammed his head back, ignoring both the pain and the clang of the locker that echoed through the room in lieu of burying his hands in raven curls; the pit of his stomach was in flames. Keiji moaned around his cock, speeding up when Koutarou began to twirl the locks between his fingers. “We shouldn’t-- _fuck_ , your mouth--” Koutarou gasped at the way Keiji tongued a vein on the underside. “Your brother is--” Keiji glared at him, obstinately as he took Koutarou in even further. Koutarou shrieked the last part of his sentence out at the sensation, “--goi _ng to murder me."_

Keiji tilted his head back until Koutarou slipped out of his mouth entirely, but stayed close enough to drag his tongue along the tip before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, collecting most of the precum besides the small amount that fell on his lips. The muscles in Koutarou’s thighs quivered at the sight. 

“Koutarou,” he said, the heat from his mouth was _too much_ this close. “I absolutely do not care what Tetsurou thinks.” He twisted the wrist holding the base of Koutarou’s cock, eliciting a growl and jerk of his hips, inadvertently sliding the slit against Keiji’s bottom lip as he continued, “ _Especially_ right now.” 

And in that moment, Koutarou decided he couldn’t agree more. After all, Keiji might kill him before his brother ever got the chance.

* * *

So. _That_ happened. Once! It happened _once!_ And Koutarou was determined to not let it happen again… _couldn’t_ let it happen again-- so no harm done. At least, that’s what he tried to convince himself. Koutarou spent the rest of the week dodging texts from both brothers. 

For the most part, Koutarou avoided his phone altogether. Guilt swamped him at the sight of multiple confused messages from the dark-haired boys, but he just _couldn’t._ He wasn’t sure which brother he was more nervous to talk to: Keiji or Tetsurou. On one hand, Tetsurou was none-the-wiser about the entire situation-- but Koutarou could never lie to him. Not that he didn’t _want_ to. There was nothing more he wanted than to take this to the grave, maybe have a _chance_ at sheltering Tetsurou from the knowledge that his baby brother was a grade-A cocksucker. On the _other_ hand… now that Koutarou had this knowledge, it was all he could think about. 

The way Keiji’s mouth tasted, and skin felt: the charming inexperience, yet _eagerness_ to please: and most of all, the way his brows furrowed and mouth hung open with a low whine when he came. 

Regardless of the fact the two boys had kept their locker-room charades their own dirty little secret, the rest of the team seemingly picked up on the strange energy between the two. Well, really, the strange energy coming off of _Koutarou._ Keiji was nonchalant as usual, face calm and movements graceful. Koutarou was just… _not_ subtle. Because no matter how “normal” their vice captain looked to the rest of them, Koutarou knew better. Keiji was a conniving little shit, and the harder Koutarou pushed him away, the closer Keiji pulled. 

Before “the incident” (as Koutarou dubbed it), he’d never noticed how little Keiji really touched him. He’d always kept a respectful distance-- from everyone, really. For the most part, Koutarou had always been the one to initiate touches with him, and that had quickly stopped after Koutarou began to realize that maybe it wasn’t “platonic” to want to be with Keiji the way he did. But “the incident” (the wonderful, mind-numbing, amazing, _boner-inducing_ incident) had made Keiji bold. 

Where he used to mostly observe, he’d now begun a habit of trailing hands along Koutarou’s spine, grasping his hips from behind to shift him into stretches all under the guise of “fixing his posture”. That on top of the “fuck-me” eyes he’d been sending all week was enough to make Koutarou feel like a sinking ship. 

The rest of the team didn’t notice anything strange about Keiji, but they sure did about Koutarou. They’d spent the rest of the afternoon teasing him for his several failed spikes after. 

_“Aw, Bo’s got a crush,”_ they’d snicker quietly as they ran past. If it weren’t for the way Koutarou limped to hide his raging boner, he might’ve chased them. 

On a fateful Friday, this bit him in the ass. 

Keiji had been particularly… _forward_ , that day. More so than the past few.

The first thing Keiji had done upon his arrival was insist Koutarou help him with his stretches. Although this wasn’t uncommon for Keiji to do for him, he rarely asked for the opposite. Despite this, the request seemed innocent enough, the sweet tilt to his head making it all the more convincing. How could Koutarou say no? 

As soon as the team had changed into their practice clothing, Koutarou realized his fatal mistake. Keiji was wearing the _tightest_ pair of shorts he’d ever seen-- _were those even_ **_his??_ ** The white shorts stopped only an inch or so below his ass, leaving little to nothing to the imagination. It was possibly the most un-Keiji-like thing Koutarou’d ever witnessed from his vice captain. **** Koutarou squeezed his eyes shut. 

_Be strong, Koutarou._ This had become his new mantra. Sure, it hadn’t exactly prevented him from letting Keiji swallow a load and vice versa, but what was that saying? ‘It’s the thought that counts’? 

But with Keiji laying flat on the floor, gazing up at him with those languid, blue eyes, Koutarou found his strength slipping. Keiji lifted his right thigh, holding it midair next to Koutarou’s hand.

“My thighs have been a little sore lately,” he said, sounding terribly humored by the situation. “I don’t think I’ve been stretching them properly, Kou-san.” 

_Kou-san_ . That might’ve been the worst part. That awful, horrible, _sweet_ little nickname Keiji had begun to revisit. Every time he said it, a flash of Keiji’s orgasming face moaning that name flooded Koutarou’s brain. 

With a weak smile, Koutarou crouched next to Keiji. For all he knew, Keiji really _did_ need help stretching. He couldn’t have any pulled muscles; after all, what was a captain without his vice?

The pair were a few yards away from the others, leaving them with more privacy than Koutarou had allowed them to have in days. The thought left a mess of conflicting feelings swirling in his gut; excitement, nerves, lust, _desire, affection, love--_

Koutarou mentally shook himself. _Focus_. 

He grasped at the thigh closest to him, applying pressure to push it in the direction opposite of its natural resting position. 

Any doubts of Keiji’s intentions were thrown out the window with the sound he made. He whined low in his throat, subtly tilting his head to gaze up at Koutarou with hazy eyes; they were slowly becoming consumed by their pupils. Koutarou’s fingers tightened into the thigh he was holding.

 _This little fucker,_ he thought, towing the line between charmed and affronted. Yeah, Keiji _definitely_ knew what he was doing. 

“That feels,” Keiji took a deep, gasping breath, arching his back a little off the floor in the process. “ _fantastic,_ Kou-san.” His lips curved into a closed-mouth shit-eating grin, eyes lidding in a sight so familiar Koutarou _instantly_ felt his dick reacting.

In an effort to maintain his air of nonchalance, Koutarou continued helping Keiji stretch, ignoring the little sighs and gasps of _“Oh, thank you-- I’m_ **_so_ ** _sore”._ Keiji was obviously playing this up, sounding like he took lines straight from a cheap porno-- apparently Koutarou’s suffering was _funny._

By the time he’d finally left their little bubble to zone into the rest of the group’s conversation, it was too late.

“...seen Bokuto anywhere? Dude’s been dodging me all week, so here I am.” 

…

Was…

Was that…

“Oh yeah, he’s right over there,” Koutarou heard one of the other third years respond. He could almost _see_ the snarky smile on that motherfucker’s face. “Gettin’ all handsy with his _boyfriend.”_

There was a beat of silence before, 

“ _Kou, get the fuck over here!”_

Koutarou was not going to survive the night.

\-----

“Hey, yeah, so what the _fuck_ happened to ‘nothing to worry about’?” Tetsurou hissed, tugging him off to the side by the collar of his shirt. The dark-haired boy spun around to use his _slight_ (it was only like 3 cm, okay?) height difference to his advantage, looming over his best friend. 

With a few reassurances of “not what it looked like”, Tetsurou finally toned the posturing down a notch, but kept the glower. 

“I’m gonna say it one more time, Kou,” Tetsurou said, voice little more than a low grumble in his throat. “Do not _fuck_ my little brother, do not _touch_ my little brother, do not even _look_ at him like that.” He straightened back up, nose wrinkling in an expression so similar to his brother’s Koutarou had to fight to keep his thoughts on Tetsurou. He held his hands up in what he hoped came across as sincere rather than petrified.

“No worries here!” he repeated for what felt like the billionth time.

Koutarou begged the universe for even an _ounce_ of mercy. Maybe the universe wasn’t who he should’ve been bargaining with.

* * *

With their mothers out for date night, the three teenage boys were preparing dinner for themselves. Well, it _had_ been _two_ teenage boys, but Keiji was persistent as ever. Keiji joined the others in the kitchen with a little nod at his brother and a set of lingering eyes on Koutarou. After a dubious glance at his little brother, Tetsurou turned to face the stovetop once again, showing his back to the pair. 

Despite their lack of supervision, Koutarou figured he was safe. After all, Tetsurou was not even two yards away. There was _no way_ Keiji would try to seduce him here-- not unless he wanted Koutarou to get neutered.

Koutarou was leaning with his back pressed against the kitchen island, the smooth marble supporting most of his weight as he tried not to stare at the younger boy. Keiji, on the other hand, had no such qualms about staring. He dragged his eyes across Koutarou’s body, eyes lingering on his chest and biceps before meeting golden eyes. He gave a sly smile and tiny wave.

Had Keiji _always_ been this bold? Koutarou had always thought of him as Tetsurou’s sweet little brother, naive to the detestable creeps and leers that followed wherever he went. And sure, Keiji could be a little bit of a dick at times-- he was Kuroo Tetsurou’s blood, of _course_ he had a smart mouth-- but it was generally few and far between, and reserved only for those he liked. 

“Hey, could someone grab me a bigger bowl?” Tetsurou called from over his shoulder, not bothering to actually look. 

Logically, Koutarou should’ve been the one to grab the bowl, after all, the cupboards were right in front of him. Unfortunately for him, Keiji had other plans.As Koutarou straightened up, back aching in protest from the way he’d been leaning, Keiji slipped into the _very_ tiny area between Koutarou and the cupboard above him. The lack of space left little room for even Koutarou to move around, _much less another person._ They were moulded so tightly together, Koutarou could feel the cleft of Keiji’s ass brushing against the front of his pants. He stiffened immediately, brain restarting. 

Keiji made a show of reaching for the bigger bowl, acting as if his lanky ass couldn’t reach it. He stepped up on his tippy-toes, hand stretching even further as he dug through the cupboard. With the movement, he ground his ass back against where they touched, pressing some of his lifted waist into Koutarou’s chest as well. 

Koutarou’s hands shot up to Keiji’s waist in a panic to still the motion before Koutarou’s dick made a guest appearance at dinner. Keiji shot a teasing look over his shoulder, balancing his feet back to the ground and leaning into Koutarou’s chest. The warmth of his skin underneath his sweater along with his saccharine eyes began to cloud Koutarou’s mind. Koutarou’s eyes snapped to his hunched over best friend across the room, confirming he was still preoccupied, before glancing at the boy who’d moved to sprawl across his shoulder. 

“ _What are you doing?”_ Koutarou whispered, sounding less irritated than he would’ve preferred. What could he say? Koutarou was nothing if not a sucker for Keiji. 

By now, Keiji had stopped the provocative motion of his hips, choosing instead to nuzzle his nose behind Koutarou’s ear as he whispered back, 

“ _You won’t talk to me. I miss you_.” 

The resistance left Koutarou at the endearing statement. It was no confession of love, but it certainly _was_ a confirmation that no, Keiji wasn’t _just_ attracted to him sexually. For all the confusion he’d been feeling toward the younger boy, there was one thing he was certain of; Keiji would never play with his feelings. 

A little lost in the moment, Koutarou allowed himself to inhale the smell of the dark locks in front of him; he was graced with the familiar scent of his shampoo. He pressed an affectionate kiss to the tip of his ear. 

“ _Guys.”_ At the sound of Tetsurou’s whine, Koutarou scrambled to the side, causing Keiji to lose his balance in the process. “Where’s my _boooowl?”_

Perhaps the universe _was_ on his side; Tetsurou was still _deeply_ invested in whatever concoction he was calling “soup”. He hadn’t noticed his best friend and brother clinging to each other like a desperate couple saying farewell. 

Annoyed, Keiji huffed and snatched the metal bowl that had previously been out of his reach (See? Koutarou _knew_ it). He slammed it down in front of Tetsurou, knocking against his shoulder.

Tetsurou yelped, “ _Hey!_ Little asshole.” He reached out and yanked at a curl before Keiji could get too far. Keiji batted his hand away with a scowl. 

Koutarou tried to ignore the pang in his heart when he considered how badly this could end.   
  


* * *

This sight was a feast from the gods and Koutarou didn’t even know where to start, but he certainly wanted to dig in. Keiji was standing at the foot of the doorway, wearing what would’ve looked like a lazy outfit on anyone else, but on someone like him, was _deadly:_ boxers, and nothing to cover them but a baggy hoodie. Well-- maybe anything Keiji wore was deadly, but either way-- what _really_ killed Koutarou was the sucker.

Keiji had been giving quite the show for the last minute or so since he’d entered, hollowing his cheeks around it, pressing it back and forth along the sides of his mouth to ensure Koutarou could see the way it bulged through his skin, even going as far to open his mouth to drag the treat down his tongue. He’d been silent the entire time, leaving his older brother clueless of his presence, which was fine anyways. It gave Koutarou the opportunity to reminisce on the way Keiji sounded wrapped around his cock. 

Koutarou felt feral. 

“ _Dude,_ did I tell you about what happened with Kenma?” Tetsurou sliced through his thoughts. A quick glance confirmed that much like earlier, Tetsurou was still distracted. Dark brows were furrowed into an intense scowl as he hammered away at the controller. “You _could_ help out, y’know. He’s kicking my ass,” he muttered, absent-minded, but it was too late for Tetsurou-- the other boy’s attention was already occupied. 

Irritated with losing Koutarou’s reverent gaze, Keiji had taken drastic measures. The younger boy cupped the bottom of Koutarou’s pointy chin with his thumb and forefinger, dragging golden eyes back to himself. With his other hand, he popped the sucker out of his mouth, lowering it down to Koutarou’s astonished expression and gaping mouth. Tetsurou’s story had faded to white noise; Koutarou was too overwhelmed by Keiji, _Keiji, everything Keiji._

Keiji began to push the sucker past Koutarou’s lips, slowly. Koutarou opened right up for him, knowing he’d lost this battle long before it’d begun. The blue in Keiji’s eyes was swallowed by his pupils. 

It was cherry flavored, something which caused Koutarou to look for the red staining on Keiji’s lips. This realization pleased him further as he began to mimic what Keiji had been doing previously, lost in the [**trance**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KEwxG8UfG44) offered by dark eyes and curls. Their bubble was popped by the sound of a clearing throat. 

This time, Keiji was the one to jump back from their compromising position. Two pairs of guilty eyes swung to Tetsurou. That moment, Koutarou thanked the heavens for the sight of Tetsurou’s back. He was still focused on his game; not privy to the tension in the room. 

Without thinking, Koutarou sucked on the candy in his mouth, slurping a little _too_ audibly. Tetsurou made a disgusted sound.

“Gross, dude, what are you _eating?_ ” He propped himself up on his left hand, using the weight of his body to twist around and grimace at Koutarou. “Don’t be so loud about it, weirdo, it sounds like--” He paused once he finally noticed Keiji, eyes widening before they narrowed back into a glower.

“Keiji? What are-- _ugh--”_ Tetsurou tossed a blanket off his bed at his brother, mouth wrinkling in distaste. “-- _go put some pants on, you little fucker.”_

“What?” Keiji said back, voice calm. “We’re all guys here-- and it’s nothing Koutarou-san hasn’t seen before.” Koutarou’s throat instantly closed up. 

Was-- was Keiji _trying_ to get him killed? Tetsurou apparently had the same thought process, eyes snapping over to his best friend. Koutarou gave a weak smile which wasn’t returned. Fair enough. 

“After all, we’re teammates,” Keiji finally finished, putting both older boys out of their misery. Both sets of shoulders sagged in relief. 

_Maybe I get to live another day._

Koutarou tried not to sulk when Keiji returned to his own room. He shot Koutarou one final glance before leaving. 

_I hate to see you go but love to watch you leave._

As if Tetsurou could read his mind--

“ _Hey_ ,” he said with a snap of his fingers, “Eyes over here.” 

Despite receiving suspicious glares for the rest of the night, Koutarou could’ve cried in relief; thank god Tetsurou hadn’t noticed the matching stains on their lips. 


	2. Cloud 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Koutarou was weak. He was so so weak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 im sorry i suck and take forever to write. i've been very ill :( MS is not kind to me LMAO and neither is school 
> 
> if anyone wants to chat, i made a twitter! @bubbleteanadbio
> 
> ofc, you can also reach out through my tumblr as well. @bubble-tea-and-biodiversity
> 
> thanks for all the love guys! i appreciate you <3

**RECEIVED: keiji-kun!! (9:11 PM)**

**I’m home alone.**

**_Seen 9:12 PM_ **

Koutarou squinted against the light from his screen. 

What even was he  _ supposed  _ to say to that? 

**RECEIVED: keiji-kun!! (9:13 PM)**

**No one’s home until tomorrow. They’re visiting my grandparents and I said I wasn’t feeling well.**

**_Seen 9:13 PM_ **

He cocked his head, confused, but with his stomach tingling in warning, as if  _ it  _ knew what was going on. This felt like a trap. 

**RECEIVED: keiji-kun!! (9:14 PM)**

**You’re invited, if you couldn’t tell.**

**_Seen 9:14 PM_ **

Oh, this was  _ definitely  _ a trap. 

**SENT: keiji-kun!! (9:14 PM)**

**why**

**_Seen 9:14 PM_ **

After sending, he immediately wished he could take it back. Was that rude? What if Keiji was just feeling lonely and needed a friend? Or if he was  _ scared?  _ Koutarou knew  _ he  _ hated to be home alone; he’d always panic and lock the doors, as if  _ he  _ wasn’t the biggest threat in that house. 

Oh.

Oh no.

What if Keiji  _ needed  _ him? What if it was an emergency? What if--

**RECEIVED: keiji-kun!! (9:14 PM)**

**You know why.**

**_Seen 9:14 PM_ **

Koutarou was going to burst a blood vessel. 

That solved that. There was no way in hell Koutarou would be stupid enough to visit Keiji home alone. That just  _ reeked  _ of bad ideas and hormones-- and Koutarou couldn’t let his few moments of weakness these past several weeks define him.

Nope.

Koutarou was a good friend,  _ the best of all friends,  _ really. He was being selfless here, honestly. If only Tetsurou knew, he’d be  _ so  _ proud. 

\----------

Koutarou was weak. He was  _ so so  _ weak. If Tetsurou knew, he would  _ flay  _ him. 

“ _ Koutarou,  _ oh my  _ god,”  _ Keiji panted in his ear. His breath was hot and damp, making Koutarou shiver. When he arrived, the younger boy hadn’t even bothered playing coy. The two were making out on the living room couch within seconds of Koutarou getting his boots off. 

Keiji had his arms wrapped around Koutarou’s shoulders, knees on either side of thick thighs as he ground down into his lap. Clumsy fingers clawed at the back of Koutarou’s shirt, scrambling to pull it up over his head. His desperation only further fueled Koutarou’s own. 

Once he’d finally pulled back enough for Koutarou to tear his shirt off, Keiji moved to press their chests together, eager to become acquainted with the new bare skin; Koutarou held him back by his shoulders. Keiji frowned, nerves poorly concealed behind downturned lips. Koutarou took what felt like his first gasp of air after reaching the surface. 

“Wai-- _ huff _ \--wait, wait, let me just--fuck,” Koutarou said between breaths. Keiji began to squirm in his lap impatiently. Koutarou gasped at a particular motion-- Keiji sure wasn’t being careful for someone  _ sitting on his dick.  _ Eventually, Keiji leaned back, supporting his body with two palms behind him on Koutarou’s knees. He raised a dark eyebrow, as if to say, ‘ _ Well?’ _ . 

“ _ Just,  _ just… just let me look at you--” Keiji huffed. “-- _ just for a second!  _ God, who knew you’d be so  _ pushy? _ ” Despite his words, anyone with ears could hear how disgustingly fond he sounded, clearly charmed by the idea. Keiji’s frown curved into a slight smile. 

The way Keiji sat left him on display: endless amounts of pale skin for Koutarou to map across. He slid a palm up from where it had landed on Keiji’s thigh and sparks followed along up the path toward his navel. Warmth curled in his gut when Keiji shivered. His fingers continued their exploration, tracing the bones of a barely visible rib cage beneath soft skin. Another hand wrapped around his own, dragging it further. Both boys moaned low when Keiji dragged Koutarou’s hand across a nipple, but didn’t stop there (as much as Koutarou wished he would). 

He finally raised Koutarou’s palm to his face, resting it against his cheek. His lips were flat, but navy eyes gleamed as he nuzzled into him, pressing sweet kisses against his fingers. Koutarou cupped his cheek tighter, feeling as if he held the whole world in a single hand. His heart was thudding so hard against his chest he was surprised it didn’t burst through.

“Since I’m being so ‘pushy’,” Keiji murmured the words in the space between his fingers, “Could we  _ please  _ go to my bedroom?” 

Koutarou didn’t think it was possible to refuse. 

\----------

Even the wrath of Tetsurou wasn’t enough to make Koutarou regret what had just happened. Not even a little. Melting under each other’s fingertips had been euphoric. 

In the aftermath, Keiji massaged circles into the back of Koutarou’s hair, untangling knots with delicate strokes and fixing the mess he’d worked so hard to create. Koutarou hummed with each touch. His face was tucked into Keiji’s cheek, where he pressed satisfied kisses. The skin he kissed bloomed pink. Koutarou couldn’t help the way his gut twisted with affection; he was practically bursting with it.

“I like you so much, Keiji-kun,” he said dreamily, propping himself on an elbow to get a better look at the sated face beneath him. A few damp curls stuck to Keiji’s cheek, and Koutarou found himself sweeping them away tenderly. “Like,  _ so  _ much.” He ignored how much of an understatement it actually was. 

Keiji cocked his head a little. His eyes were wary. “You do?” Despite the monotone, there was a question in his voice. 

Koutarou blinked rapidly. “Uh. Yeah?” He couldn’t believe this was even up for debate. “Is it not obvious?” Keiji rose a thumb, trailing it down Koutarou’s nose while golden eyes followed the movement. He gave a pleased hum.

“Is that… not what this is?” Koutarou asked nervously. The sudden need for validation thrummed in his chest. “You like me too,  _ right?”  _ It was embarrassing, really, how he couldn’t even try to hide his desperation. Keiji was so cool and collected, even after their shared intimacy. Koutarou wished he could be like that, wished he could just fuck and not care, but this was  _ Keiji.  _ He  _ adored  _ him, and he wasn’t sure if his heart could take a rejection right now. 

Keiji cupped his face in his hands, the action so tender it was an answer in itself. He smiled softly. 

“Of course I like you, is it not obvious?” 

* * *

Koutarou had always liked to fantasize about what Keiji would be like in a relationship. His previous experiences with fumbled touches and awkward laughs with classmates were painfully unromantic and hadn’t left him with high expectations, but a boy could dream nonetheless. Koutarou had been more than prepared to be the one doing the ‘wooing’ in their relationship. He’d pictured shy glances and whispers of touches, butterfly kisses and tempting flirts, maybe even a declaration of love here or there; really, the whole sappy nine yards. What he  _ hadn’t  _ pictured, was that Akaashi Keiji was the clingiest boyfriend in the world-- and Koutarou  _ loved it.  _

It was as if he couldn’t bear to be in a room with Koutarou without touching him. Home alone on the couch, Koutarou curled in his lap while he rubbed his boyfriend’s back: an affectionate peck on the cheek while hallways were empty and backs turned in school: even an occasional ass grab in the gym which never failed to make Koutarou shriek, towing the line between affronted and bashful while garnering laughs from their teammates. 

In conclusion, Keiji was insatiable. Though, Koutarou certainly wasn’t complaining. Not only had he somehow managed to bag  _ the  _ Akaashi Keiji, but to have him mutually whipped? This was unprecedented. 

In the many years he’d known him, Keiji hadn’t expressed interest in  _ anyone.  _ Despite this, a one hundred percent rejection rate never successfully deterred anyone from trying. So yeah,  _ maybe  _ Koutarou was sulking about the secrecy of their new relationship. Who could blame him? It’d been hard to watch people flirt with Keiji  _ before  _ they started dating. Now? It was borderline provoking. 

As sore as the subject was for Koutarou, Keiji found it funny. Apparently, Koutarou’s boyfriend was a sadist. 

The conversation had started off normal. Koutarou had begged to come over that Sunday, frantic about a chemistry exam and close to tears after glancing at the study guide. His friend had much more of a knack for these kinds of things. Tetsurou had been hesitant at first, but eventually obliged. He’d already made plans with Kenma that day, but was willing to invite Koutarou as well. Koutarou was lucky Tetsurou loved him. 

“No,  _ no, dumbass,”  _ Tetsurou chuckled. He erased a good chunk of Koutarou’s work and wiped off the shavings, gesturing to the equation on the page. “Where did you even get this? This has nothing to do with the partial pressure.” He squinted a little before holding the paper closer. “Is this precalc?” 

Koutarou moaned, anguished, and slammed his head into the table. “I don’t know!” Listen, he wasn’t stupid by any means. But like,  _ c’mon.  _ Who the fuck understood this stuff anyways?

“Kenma, you gotta see this, it’s like, illiterate.” Snorting, Tetsurou slid the paper across the table to the blond. Kenma’s eyes glanced around the page for a few seconds before his lips curved into a smile. Koutarou whined, mortified. Whatever he’d written must’ve been pretty bad to get a reaction from Kenma, of all people. 

“Tetsu, baby, be nice to your friends,” his mother called from the living room.

“Yeah, not everyone’s a fuckin’  _ nerd,”  _ Koutarou leaned into his friend’s space to whisper with a teasing smile. The pair exchanged friendly digs back and forth before Kenma ended it with a flick to Tetsurou’s ear, insisting they continue. Tetsurou was explaining gas laws for the fifth time when Kenma broke his silence again,

“Oh, hi Keiji-kun,” he said, aloof, although not unkind. “How was your day?” His eyes lingered behind Koutarou.

After double-checking that Tetsurou was still focused on the packet, Koutarou snuck a glance over his shoulder. Keiji had switched out of his school uniform already and into some comfier clothes. Koutarou’s chest pounded. Was it weird to want to squeeze your boyfriend?

“Mm. Could’ve been better,” Keiji replied mildly. Koutarou flushed when Keiji caught him staring, raising a brow. “There was this guy that wouldn’t leave me alone.” 

Almost simultaneously, both Koutarou and Tetsurou twisted around the back of their chairs, facing Keiji with two sets of furrowed brows. 

“What does  _ that  _ mean?” Tetsurou said at the same time as Koutarou’s, “ _ Who?”  _ Tetsurou was too concerned with his brother to question Koutarou’s own distress. 

Blue eyes flickered between the two of them for a few moments, before settling back on Kenma, but answering  _ their  _ questions, 

“Some third-year was following me around, y’know, per usual.”

There was definitely a temperature drop in the room. Koutarou wasn’t sure if he was feeling more of his friend’s murderous intent, or his own. Koutarou scanned through a list of third-years he knew that had spoken to Keiji before. 

“Per usual?” Kenma pried with owlish eyes. He squinted a little. “Don’t you go to school with Koutarou-kun? I kind of thought he’d be like a hound dog.” A bundle of nerves began to sink in Koutarou’s gut but Kenma continued. “I would if my boyfriend got hit on all the time.” Koutarou froze. Besides the fact that,  _ no _ , Koutarou kind of doubted Kenma would be bold enough or loud enough to act like that, he was also  _ freaking the fuck out.  _

Koutarou didn’t need to look to feel the way Tetsurou stiffened beside him. He began to count back from ten in his head, suddenly wishing he’d written his will. 

Tetsurou turned his head, cycling a stony gaze between all three of them before settling on Kenma. He tilted his head, looking more like a lost puppy than the rottweiler he’d been two seconds prior. 

“They’re not dating, Ken,” he said easily. “I just asked Kou to look out for him, that’s all.” Kenma was silent for a few seconds, staring behind at Keiji instead. Finally, he shrugged, dismissing it. The tension bled from Koutarou’s shoulder. It took everything in him to not release a sigh of relief as well. 

Before they could drop the topic entirely, a fourth voice chimed in, “Oh, but wouldn’t that be  _ so  _ sweet?” The boys’ mother had peeked around the corner, listening in from the living room. She tucked a few dark bangs behind her ear before tapping her chin with her finger. “Kou-chan and Keiji would be such a cute couple.” Her teasing words earned pink cheeks all around. Koutarou coughed, awkwardly, while Kenma seemed to be musing over the idea. Tetsurou scowled.

“ _ Mama,  _ that’s gross,” he said, voice tight like the mere thought disgusted him. “Kou’s like my brother, he would never.” Koutarou winced the way he always did at the reminder that he  _ ‘would’ _ and  _ had been  _ dating Tetsurou’s little brother in secret. “That’s like, the ultimate betrayal.” God, Koutarou wished he would stop talking. Apparently, Keiji did too. He smacked his lips together, releasing them with a  _ ‘pop!’  _ and a frown. Their mother chuckled, waving off the complaints with a swish of her hand and exiting once again. Koutarou hoped that would be the end of it, but--

“I don’t know, Tetsurou. Don’t you think Kou-san and I would be cute together?” 

Oh fuck. 

_ Keiji, stop,  _ Koutarou begged internally. _ Don’t do me like this, man.  _

The tension in the air was palpable once again. Tetsurou had a strained, warning grin on his face. “No, not really, Kei,” he snarked. “It’d be weird. Besides, he doesn’t see you like that.” His eyes flickered to Koutarou for confirmation. “Right, Kou?” 

This--

This was simply not right.

Who let them be like this? Who enabled the Akaashi-Kuroo kids to be passive aggressive little  _ monsters  _ when they were growing up? Because Koutarou was about three seconds from shitting his pants-- for real, this time. 

Koutarou warily glimpsed between the two brothers. For the billionth time, Koutarou noticed how much alike they looked:  _ especially,  _ when they had matching stony scowls and hard set jaws. 

“I don’t know about that,” Keiji said, coldly. “What do  _ you  _ think, Kou-san?” 

_ Christ.  _

As hot as it was to have Keiji egging him on like this, it would be  _ much  _ hotter if Koutarou wasn’t facing his imminent demise. Tetsurou clapped a hand over Koutarou’s shoulder in what would’ve normally been a friendly action, but the just-barely-too-tight squeeze told another story. 

“Can you like-- not fucking do that? Stop hitting on my best friend, Keiji. It’s fucking weird.” Tetsurou would’ve never laid a finger on Keiji; as much as they picked at each other, he adored his little brother. But right now, Koutarou could feel the aggression roiling off them both in waves.

The atmosphere was shattered by a groan.

“Guys, I feel like I’ve opened a weird can of worms-- and for that, I apologize-- but could we possibly get back to work? The sooner we get this over with, the better,” Kenma said. Despite nearly witnessing the third world war, the blond looked terribly bored and as if he was regretting even coming. “This is… a little much, guys.” 

Personally, being told to calm down would’ve riled Koutarou up to the max. Luckily for everyone though, Kenma’s stoic manner seemed to be a balm for Tetsurou. He deflated instantly with a sigh.

“Yeah, sorry, Ken. Let’s get back to work, guys,” Tetsurou said, shifting back into his seat to face Kenma. Koutarou had yet to move, staring into miffed blue eyes. Keiji’s nose wrinkled before storming off. 

_ Shit.  _

* * *

Fooling around with your best friend’s little brother behind his back was pretty risky, of course, but actually  _ dating  _ his little brother was just playing with fire. Because if Koutarou thought Keiji was a tease before,  _ oh  _ boy. 

Akaashi Keiji was a cruel, cruel boyfriend. Koutarou wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to get him this upset… though, he had his theories. 

It was as if a switch had flipped. Subtle flirting and jabs in the gym had turned into a painfully distant sexual tension between the two, so palpable it left even their teammates visibly baffled. Take the other day, for example.

It’d been a rough practice for the team. As much as Koutarou was loath to admit it, this wasn’t an uncommon issue for them. Koutarou’s frequent and unpredictable mood swings weren’t encouraging for anyone, really.  _ This  _ though, this was different. For the first time in what seemed like ever, Keiji was the problem. 

With the rest of the team, he was efficient as ever: guiding them through practice, setting their tosses, even the occasional compliment. As for their captain? Well. He left a lot to be desired.

“Me next, Keiji-kun! Me next!” Koutarou was nearly shaking with excitement. Keiji had spent the afternoon practicing sets with  _ everyone  _ besides him. Koutarou was ready, god damn it. He hopped back and forth on his heels next to his vice, eager. 

Keiji gave him a curt once-over before returning to his conversation with one of their new middle blockers, not even bothering with an answer. The first-year gulped a little, cheeks blooming red underneath starry eyes. Keiji didn’t notice, clearing his throat,

“ _ As I was saying,  _ Kubo-kun--” Koutarou whined at the thought of being ignored. “I think your receives have really improved, we should get working on more power behind your spikes next.” The shorter boy was as red as a tomato now. 

“Uhm, than-- thanks!” he squeaked. Koutarou pouted. Why was his boyfriend praising this little  _ first-year  _ and not him? 

“ _ Keiji-kuuuuun, _ ” Koutarou tried again.  _ What?  _ It normally worked. “Keiji-kun, c’mon. Let Konoha practice with Kubo-kun!” He figured it’d only take a little more bitching to get his setter’s attention. 

To his disbelief, Keiji scoffed, irritated. He shot Koutarou a cold stare, furrowing his brows before,

“Koutarou-san, I’m busy.” The effect of his words was instantaneous: a few of their teammates gasped and Koutarou drooped like an overwatered daisy. He sunk to the floor where he was, dead in the middle of the court, with his head hung low. 

Keiji chiding Koutarou was unheard of. As much as he liked to tease, he’d never actually been upset with Koutarou before; he was often even careful with actual critiques in fear of dampening his mood… much like he had now. 

Okay, so  _ maybe  _ Koutarou was being a little overdramatic.  _ Maybe  _ Keiji hadn’t quite…  _ scolded  _ him or anything, but-- even before they’d started dating, Keiji  _ always  _ had made time to set for his captain. On and off the court, it was just a known fact that Keiji would be there, trailing behind Koutarou and cleaning up his mess. But no, not anymore.

Koutarou had been abandoned. Keiji hated him. He’d never set for him again, much less  _ kiss  _ him. Oh my god. He was going to quit the team. Koutarou was annoying and Keiji was  _ going to quit the team.  _ He was going to quit the team and leave Koutarou all alone. What if--  _ what if Koutarou had to set for himself?  _ No. No that wasn’t possible. But-- this was--  _ who was going to--  _

“Uhm, Bo? You good?” Konoha asked. He stood beside him, leaning down to pat his captain on the shoulder in an awkward gesture. “You’ve been sitting there for awhile now, man. I’m pretty sure like, half the team has showered by now.” Koutarou lifted his head to glance at the now empty gym before turning his gaze back to Konoha, mouth hanging open in a devastated frown. Konoha flinched back, grimacing a little. He rubbed a hand across his forehead. 

“ _ Bokuto,  _ Jesus Christ, you’re fine. Come on. Get up,” Konoha sounded drained from this conversation alone. Koutarou raised a limp hand silently. Konoha stared blankly for a few seconds before groaning in disbelief. He smacked his palm to his forehead. 

“Are you-- are you kidding me?” He gave a hysterical little chuckle. “Bokuto, you weigh like, 80 kilograms, dude. I can’t…” Konoha dragged the hand down his face. He glanced down again at Bokuto, who had yet to move or even respond, still staring at the floor with his back bent at an unnatural angle and head hanging. Konoha sighed.

“Okay, you big baby.” 

Unsurprisingly, Konoha did not have an easy time lifting 78 kilograms of dead weight onto his back. Koutarou was not only heavy,  _ but tall  _ and thick. Looking back, maybe this was an unfair request. 

“Dude--”  _ Huff.  _ “This is--  _ agh-- _ ”  _ Huff.  _ “So fuckin’-- un-- _ ” Huff.  _ “--necessary!” Koutarou shifted a little on his back. “ _ Stop--ack-- now you’re moving?!”  _

After a long, effortless journey (at least for Koutarou) on Konoha’s back, the ashy blond finally made it into the locker room, huffing and puffing as he propped the older boy against his locker. Just as Konoha had predicted, the rest of the team was fresh and clean, getting dressed in the leftover steam. Konoha scowled at their unimpressed stares, grumbling about how they should ‘try lifting that fatass’. The room erupted in laughter. 

“Oh come  _ on,  _ Bo,” one of them cackled. “Don’t be such a boob!” 

Another second-year chimed in, “Akaashi-san wasn’t even mean!” 

No.  _ No.  _ They just didn’t understand. A refusal to practice from Keiji? To  _ Koutarou?  _ That was like, the highest form of rejection. How could no one see what a tragedy this was?

Koutarou glanced up when he felt a presence approaching him, accompanied by the soft pitter-patter of wet feet on tile. He frowned in disappointment at the sight of the first-year.

“I’m sorry, Bokuto-san, I didn’t mean to distract Akaashi-san during practice,” Kubo said sheepishly. He scratched his forehead, brushing aside a chestnut bang. “I know how much you guys practice together.” Koutarou couldn’t help the pained way his brows furrowed, mouth quivering. 

**_Used_ ** _ to practice together,  _ he thought. 

“Kou-san?” Keiji’s call echoed against the metal of the lockers. Koutarou perked up, along with several others. They shared apprehensive glances. Keiji was peeking around the corner, fresh out of the shower with damp locks curling. He looked around the room for a few beats, meeting his teammate’s eyes before finally noticing a wilted Koutarou; he was slowly sliding down the lockers, bottom lip trembling. 

Keiji sighed, nose wrinkling in frustration. Still sopping wet in a towel, he brushed past the rest of the boys and over to Koutarou. He gave a soft smile to Kubo, who had yet to move from his spot. 

“Thank you, Kubo-kun, but you’ve done nothing wrong.” Not that Koutarou was going to accept his apology  _ anyways  _ but especially not now with the way the short boy gazed up at Keiji in awe. 

_ I know,  _ he wanted to say, bitterly.  _ He’s wonderful, isn’t he?  _

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Kubo understood this for what it was: a polite dismissal from his vice captain. With a quiet ‘oh!’, he scampered off, joining the mass of boys watching from across the room. Now it was just Keiji, Koutarou, and an entire audience of snickering hyenas. 

“Kou-san,” Keiji said, quiet enough for only the two of them. His voice sounded more gentle than earlier, more affectionate. Koutarou’s head sprang up, hopefully. All hope was squashed in an instant. Keiji looked  _ pissed.  _ “You have approximately…” he paused, scrunching the right side of his face in mock thought, “hmm,  _ twenty seconds,  _ to get your ass up off this floor and in a shower before I walk home alone and ignore you until next practice.” 

_ Welp.  _

Sounds of clanging metal rang through the room and pierced everyone’s ears, earning complaints as Koutarou frantically scrambled to his feet. He ignored the chortles and taunts from his teammates as he ran past. 

“ _ What even did you say to him?”  _ Koutarou heard one of them howl through their laughter. 

Keiji’s response was too quiet for Koutarou, but by the way the room lapsed into silence quickly after, it must’ve really been something. 

Koutarou was already stripped and in a shower by the time he heard Keiji call for him again. 

“Kou?” the setter’s murmur was loud in the silence of the showers. Koutarou tensed up, preparing for the worst but hoping for the best. He’d already been tricked once today by that siren’s call. He let out a grunt to indicate his location.

There was the sound of rustling before Koutarou’s shower curtain was tugged aside, revealing a bashful looking Keiji. He cracked his knuckles, a nervous habit. Koutarou moved aside quietly to make room for the other to join. 

With a drop of his towel, Keiji had crowded under the pouring water and into his space. He cupped Koutarou’s cheek, pressing a kiss to the spot adjacent on his jaw. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” He lifted his mouth to kiss Koutarou’s chin next. “I’ve been feeling a little sensitive lately about having to keep everything so secret... but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” 

Koutarou didn’t really care-- though, he probably should’ve. He was too relieved. 

_ Maybe I was being a little… dramatic, earlier.  _

Like gunshots upon a battleground, Koutarou pecked overexcited kisses along Keiji’s darkening cheeks. He beamed. There was nothing more gratifying than the knowledge that Keiji was just as into Koutarou as he was into him.

* * *

“You smell so nice,” Koutarou cooed, overly sappy with their proximity. The two lay side-by-side in Keiji’s bed, innocently trailing fingers in the dips of each other’s faces. It was a sweet scene, one that lacked the frenzy of their usual interactions. More and more frequently, Keiji had found himself home alone. What better time than to cuddle? 

Keiji’s eyes crinkled slightly, the apples of his cheeks tightening alongside them. 

“You smell nice, too, Koutarou.” He tapped at the dimple in Koutarou’s cheek, tracing it. “This is cute.” 

“ _ You’re  _ cute,” Koutarou whispered, kissing a short brow.  _ God,  _ they were sappy. Absolutely disgusting. After years of pining, Koutarou wouldn’t want it any other way. Keiji hummed in the back of his throat, lifting his face to nose his way along Koutarou’s hairline. Koutarou rewarded his exposed neck with kisses; his mouth gradually opened more as he went until his tongue joined in.

“Oh, Kou--” Keiji choked a little. “That feels good.” Quick as a snake, Koutarou hoisted the younger boy off his side and into his lap. He propped his head against Keiji’s pillows, dizzying himself with the clean smell of pine and  _ Keiji.  _ Keiji inhaled sharply when Koutarou adjusted underneath him. With a wicked smile, Koutarou dove back in. 

Consistent with earlier, their kisses were slow and deep: calming, though overwhelming. They passed groans back and forth between each other’s mouths. Keiji smoothed a hand up Koutarou’s side until it found its way to the strands at the back of the boy’s neck, loose and ungelled from his shower. He twirled the pieces around his fingers like he would his own. Koutarou smiled into their kisses. 

Keiji pulled back.

“You,” He leaned down to peck Koutarou’s lips. “Are gorgeous.” He grazed his fingers down to Koutarou’s thundering heart before flattening it there. “We should take this off.” 

Koutarou would be a fool to argue with that. Heat boiled in his gut as he tugged off his shirt, throwing it across the room before settling back on the pillow. Keiji gave a sly little smile before following suit. The boy underneath him swallowed, his breath already ragged from the plains of exposed skin.

Everyday, Koutarou was reminded of one simple fact: there was nothing better than praise from Keiji. He was  _ perfect.  _ If he liked someone like Koutarou, then, well, he must’ve been doing  _ something  _ right. 

The two were quick to fall into a familiar dance: the push and pull of one another, giggles and gasps. Electricity seemed to buzz in the air around them, sparking with each little touch. 

Right as Koutarou grabbed a handful of ass, the door slammed open. 

“Hey, Kei--” Koutarou had never moved faster in his life; his hand whipped back to his side, the boil in his stomach reduced to a quiet simmer of  _ fear.  _ All at once, three things became apparent.

  1. Keiji was _not_ home alone. 
  2. Tetsurou was gaping at the pair.
  3. Keiji was straddling Koutarou half-naked and apparently had _zero_ plans to move. 



Koutarou stared at his best friend in horror, and began to pray.

_ Please, God, please tell me this is a dream.  _

Rather than the immediate MMA fight Koutarou was expecting, the next minute or so was spent in silence as Tetsurou took in the scene before him. Koutarou instinctively clenched his hands when Keiji squirmed in his lap, and the action seemed to trigger something in him. 

“I thought you were at volleyball camp,” Keiji said, awfully bland for someone who’d be attending a funeral tomorrow. Tetsurou tilted his head and his brows furrowed, dumbstruck. 

“I… we… got out a day early…” He blinked rapidly, gaze shooting between his best friend and little brother. As if finally coming to his senses, his furrow deepened into a wicked scowl. “What the  _ fuck  _ is happening here?” 

He dropped his sports duffel on the floor, ignoring the clothes that spilled out and tightening his fist. Keiji glanced down at the mess, mirroring his brother’s facial expression. 

“Okay, well, for  _ one,  _ you’re cleaning that up,” Keiji hissed. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Koutarou was still too stupefied to move, maybe he would’ve begun begging by now. For what? Who knows. Maybe for forgiveness from Tetsurou, or God…  _ maybe for Keiji to get the fuck off him.  _ “And secondly?” Keiji squirmed again, more out of anger than anything else, and Koutarou wanted to die. “What the hell do you  _ think  _ is happening? Or was  _ going  _ to happen until you interrupted?” 

Tetsurou seemed more appalled by the minute. His look of horror had begun to match Koutarou’s. 

“Can you get out? We’re kind of busy here,” Keiji snarled. A horny Keiji was an aggressive one. Which, again,  _ not the time.  _ Koutarou wanted to speak, but there was a cork in his throat stopping him. What even would he say? ‘Sorry’? His boner was gone the minute he saw Tetsurou? Probably wouldn’t win him any awards.

“Uh,” Tetsurou said, lamely. He squeezed his eyes shut, aggressively rubbing at the crease in his forehead with his fingers. “Please tell me I’m misunderstanding what’s going on here.” This seemed to fuel the fire in Keiji.

“Well, I wasn’t going to braid his fucking hair, Tetsu.” Koutarou wished he could gag Keiji, and  _ not  _ in a hot way. Tetsurou looked like he agreed. He looked horribly uncomfortable, shoulders stiff and face wrinkled into a disappointed frown. Two pairs of golden eyes met one another. Tetsurou shook his head, clearly upset.

“I don’t get it, Kou, this is like, the  _ one  _ thing I asked you not to do. What the fuck, man?” Tetsurou said weakly. Koutarou felt a rush of shame flood over him; this was  _ not  _ the hellfire he had been expecting. He didn’t regret Keiji-- could  _ never  _ regret anything he’d done with Keiji, but Tetsurou was his best friend. He adored him. Koutarou had never had a brother, but Tetsurou felt like his own and it seemed like there was no winning here. 

“You  _ what _ ?” Keiji spat. “You asked him not to what,  _ fuck me?”  _ His voice was rising from where he sat. Tetsurou made a noise of disgust. 

“What the fuck, Koutarou? You  _ had sex with my brother?” _ Oh shit. Oh shit.  _ There  _ was the anger he was waiting for. Koutarou had just kind of thought that was like,  _ obvious?  _

“Well,” Koutarou finally said, laughing sheepishly. “Let me-- let me start here, we did not…  _ fuck  _ per se.” He was met with two unimpressed glares. “We made love!” This--  _ no _ . In hindsight, this was not the way to go-- but it was too late. 

“Keiji, you have  _ three seconds  _ to get off of him before I throw your ass off,” Tetsurou warned. After no response, 

“Bokuto Koutarou,” Tetsurou said with a flat voice. “I am going to beat  _ the shit  _ out of you.” Several things happened at once.

Keiji finally stood up off Koutarou (still in nothing but sweats, mind you) and in front of his brother, Tetsurou came stomping toward the bed, and Koutarou shielded his dick and prayed for mercy. 

“No, I am going to beat the  _ shit  _ out of you,” Keiji said as he stood in his brother’s face. Neither brother was weak. While Tetsurou had some muscle mass and height on Keiji, his brother had him beat in terms of agility. Honestly, given the chance, it likely would’ve been close to a fair fight. Of course, Koutarou couldn’t allow that. He rushed in between the brothers and tried not to think of how ironic it was; he’d spent the last few months metaphorically sandwiched between the Akaashi-Kuroo brothers, only to find himself  _ quite literally  _ in that situation now. 

“Guys, slow down, come on,” Koutarou panted. He stared nervously into Tetsurou’s eyes, noticing the hurt there.

“Why would you guys do this to me? Do you not give a shit how uncomfortable this makes me feel?” His words were shaky, tearing a hole right through Koutarou’s heart. Koutarou thought the worst case scenario was a pissed off Tetsurou, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. He would’ve taken a black eye over the warble in his voice any day. 

“That’s not fair, Tetsu,” Koutarou tried to defend himself. “You know that’s not fair.” When he considered the only thing that could resolve this, it made his hands shake with anxiety. Fear of rejection, anger, and disgust swirled in his head. He took a deep breath before his next words,

“You know that’s not fair because I’m in love with him and I have been for a long time. I know you see it.” The air in the room went stale. Koutarou swallowed. “ _ Everyone  _ sees it.” Koutarou closed his eyes, waiting for the first punch. 

There was no punch. There was no… nothing. Nothing happened. No one spoke for what felt like ages, and no one moved. Koutarou’s chest tightened at the feel of fingertips subtly trailing along the back of his arm. Keiji finally wrapped their fingers together. 

“I love you too, you know.” 

Koutarou released his breath in a gush of air.

_No matter what happened here, we’re gonna be_ [**_okay_**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9TlsURc4TA) _._

* * *

No one was surprised when Koutarou and Keiji came out as a couple. Not even Tetsurou when they’d first been discovered, if we’re being honest. Not really. 

The two had always gravitated toward each other, hopelessly lost in one another’s orbits. Anyone with eyes could see that. Just like how anyone with eyes could see how absolutely infatuated Koutarou was with Keiji.

Maybe that’s what had helped with Tetsurou’s  _ reluctant  _ acceptance. 

The two sat in Tetsurou’s bedroom, side-by-side after a long chat. They took turns tossing a ball up in the air, just  _ talking.  _ A familiar scene for them both, but in some ways, different. 

“I’m sorry you guys felt like you had to hide from everyone,” Tetsurou said. His words came out tight, as if ashamed. “You know I love you both… and I just want you guys to be happy.” 

Koutarou hummed quietly. It felt like a rhetorical statement. He tossed the ball into the air when it fell toward him. 

“I could tell something was different y’know. I guess I just didn’t know what, or maybe I didn’t  _ want  _ to know, but Kei seems a lot… happier.” 

Koutarou smiled softly at the words. 

“I’m a lot happier too. He makes me really happy.” Tetsurou let out an exaggerated gag. 

“ _ Stop, _ ” he wailed dramatically. He leaned over, missing the ball and letting it fall to the floor in favor of clamping a hand over Koutarou’s mouth. “Don’t be so  _ sappy and gross  _ about  _ Keiji  _ of all people.” Although hidden, Koutarou beamed. The way his eyes squinted with mirth gave him away. 

“I might be cool with this Kou, but you gotta know one thing.” Koutarou cocked his head, furrowing his brow in confusion. Tetsurou’s hand was still clamped over his mouth as he leaned in, eyes gleaming with a clear threat. 

“If you do  _ anything  _ to Keiji that he doesn’t like, I’m still going to break your fucking neck.” 

Koutarou nodded furiously.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading! <3 
> 
> sorry this is a lil more depraved than my other fic asduhdsfhdfskj idk what came over me here. 
> 
> alsooo if you wanna chat or anything, my tumblr is bubble-tea-and-biodiversity


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